


N: Nourishing

by brokxnharry



Series: Teen Wolf A-Z Challenge (with songs) [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Derek Hale Saves Stiles Stilinski, Good Parent Melissa McCall, Hurt Stiles, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Scott is a Good Friend, Stiles Attracts Supernatural Creatures, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, not detailed though, sterek without admitting to it, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokxnharry/pseuds/brokxnharry
Summary: Stiles has some creature crawling under his skin, killing him from the inside out. And he'd rather die, before he hurts anyone else, so he goes to Derek to do just that. Derek won't let him.





	N: Nourishing

**Author's Note:**

> Song: No fate awaits - Son Lux ft. Faux Fix

Derek heard a knock on the door, felt a heartbeat piercing through the walls, hitting and tearing and breaking more than just bones. There was something in the air that he knew, that he'd sensed before, threading through a scent that always felt like home. He turned to the door, shirt in hand, water drops still sliding against his skin, not quite dry enough after stepping out of the shower.

" Stiles," Derek noted, confused, as Stiles pushed his way into his loft, eyes frantic in their loss, chest heaving despite the short climb up the stairs.

" I need you to restrain me." Stiles choked out, surprisingly firm, certain, although his hands were trembling against the door he still hadn't pushed shut behind him.

" What?"

" Derek, you have to restrain me. Now." Stiles walked further into the loft, taking one of the very few chairs around, putting it in the middle of the empty space, before sitting himself down, away from the windows and the door and anything that could serve as an escape, an outlet.

" Stiles, go home. We just got back from that ghoul hunt, which I get, probably stressed you out, but-"

" **_Derek_**." Stiles whined, his voice laced with desperation. Derek heard the plea in the way he called his name, putting his arms through the shirt, before approaching Stiles.

" Okay, I'm listening. Why should I restrain you?"

" Do it first, then we'll talk. Please. Come on." Stiles put his hands in the air, held together, shaking, even in their unity. Derek's eyebrows furrowed, something tugging at his heart, that he pushed aside, disregarded. He stood, finding ropes, cuffs, chains, most of which he'd used through full-moon nights.

" How extreme do we need to go?" Derek questioned, looking between the restraints in hand, trying to imagine them around Stiles.

" As far as we can. Better be safe." Fear had its icy cold fingers somewhere on Derek, as he tried to inspect Stiles, to see what was wrong, and how he could fix it, without having to strip him of his dignity, his humanity.

He moved around Stiles, circling chains around his body, putting cuffs around his hands and ankles, trying not to touch too closely to feel the pulse he seemed to follow, without ever deciding too. Trying not to inhale the bitter scent that was coating Stiles' with something horrible, something that had an aura of finality around it, that made Derek want to throw up his goodbye, because he wasn't saying it. Not to Stiles. Not like this. Not yet.

He gave the chains a final tug, rising from the floor, standing in front of Stiles, and trying not to take in how little he looked, how miserable, because then, he'd tear through those chains and break through all that was pulling him apart. And he didn't think Stiles would want him to do that. So he didn't.

" When I went home, I was feeling.. weird. There was this.. itch? Yeah, everywhere. I felt like I was itching my skin right off. So, I went to take a shower, when I saw this, uh, hole, on my shoulder. Like some sort of entrance wound."

" **_Entrance_** wound?" Derek put a hand on Stiles' neck, pushing his head down, as he pulled his shirt away. Something caught in his throat, his fingers moving across the angry looking skin, that smelled of decay, of something withering away. And it was on Stiles' body, it was burning through his skin. And Derek didn't know how he was meant to keep from tearing it right out.

" What is that? Did you get hurt in the fight?"

" Not really. I was just going to wait till tomorrow, to go see Deaton about it or something, but, my dad came into my room after his shift, and I- I felt like, like I was hungry. Like I could hear his heartbeat pulsing under my fingertips, could taste his blood, and I- I had to get out of there before I did something to him. To my own **_dad_** , Derek." Stiles sounded like he could cry, if he let himself. But he inhaled, held it in long enough for his heart to slow the fit it seemed to be throwing in his chest, before he exhaled.

" I looked it up. I think I know what it is. I called Lydia, to fact-check with her. She should be getting back to me soon. But if it is, what I think it is,"

" What do you think it is?"

" It's a type of worm; I think it's called Khan Worm. Among other things. It's an ancient type of creature, it comes from Purgatory, Derek. **_Purgatory_**. As if we didn't have enough monsters to last us a lifetime or two."

" Okay, what does it do? How do we get rid of it?"

" It feeds on human flush. Organs. Blood. All of it."

" Wh- what?" Derek stopped. He didn't know when he'd started moving, but he was falling –more collapsing than anything- into a chair that was somewhere around Stiles, but not close enough. He couldn't get to him, couldn't get it out of him.

" That's why I felt that craving when I saw dad. Human. And I guess, it always wants more. More than just the vessel it chose, the meat-suit it's wearing. And once it's done with me,"

" Done with you? It's not going to be done with you. Stop talking like that. Actually, stop talking at all. There's a heartbeat coming up the stairs." Derek wanted to focus on that instead, on how unsteady it was, although, it sounded nothing like Stiles'. Stiles' heart seemed to be beating in a pace of its own, with a rhythm that couldn't be imitated. Was like nothing else. Derek didn't want to think of the silence it'd leave in its wake. The quiet that would probably drive him out of his mind.

The door was pushed open, Lydia came in, looking genuinely terrified, against her normally nonchalant, collected exterior. Something like a scream pushed against Stiles, his head twitching, like there were no bones holding it to the rest of him, his figure convulsing, every bit of it, pulled in a different direction, like he was being torn at, from the inside out.

" Get her out of here! Lydia, go, fuck." Blood was seeping through his mouth, flooding past his nostrils, like he was being drained out. Derek tried to hold him, tried to steady him, but those sounds he was making, the kicks he gave, every time something broke through his personal space, were almost maddening to Derek, who was falling to his knees, almost having to put his hands to his ears, to keep Stiles' voice out, to keep his agonized groans from echoing in his head, deafening him, defeating everything he'd held of Stiles.

Lydia went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, retrieved until her back was against the window, keeping her as far away from Stiles as she could be, without leaving the loft all together, without leaving him. Stiles' shoulder snapped, a final choked breath escaping his reddened lips, before he tipped the chair backwards, collapsing to the ground, unmoving, except for the rattled movement of his chest, as it struggled to take any air in, and hold onto it.

Tears were falling against his paled skin, dissolving into the widening pool of blood beneath him. Derek put his hands to his head, feeling the sweat and blood and tears seeping through his clothes, tainting his hands, but he didn't care for any of it, as he pushed Stiles' hair back, lifting his neck slightly, to ease his breathing. Stiles was blinking against his closed eyes, trying to wake, to be present, and in control, because he couldn't let it take over and harm any of them, couldn't leave them.

" Is she okay? Lydia, is,"

" Lydia?" Derek called, eyes moving across Stiles' features, watching for anything that might be misplaced, disfigured, but it was still all him, bloodied and weak, but still. It was Stiles.

" I'm fine." Lydia's voice was trembling, strangled, like she was crying, but at least it was there. Stiles sniffled, trying not to cry himself, as Derek helped lift his chair, steady it back into its balance.

" Fuck me." Stiles whispered under his breath, angling his head to the side, and spitting the blood that was bittering the taste of his mouth, making him nauseous, dizzy.

" Why did you come here, Lydia? I thought we said you're going to call if you have any information." Stiles' voice was so strained, barely there at all, but Lydia seemed to hear it, because Derek could sense her attempts at regaining composure, getting a hold of herself again.

" I'm not going to let you do this alone. Scott is coming too. And Allison. Isaac is staying behind, in case he needs to grab Melissa and the Sheriff."

" No, Lydia, no. **_Fuck_** , I came here for a reason. Allison can't be here. Or Melissa or dad or even you. Please. I won't let this.. this thing get to any of you. I'm not letting myself hurt you, not again." His features twisted in remembrance, thinking of swords and blood and bones cracking beneath his touch and guns pointed at all the wrong people. Instead of him.

" You're not going to. Because we're going to fix this." Lydia spoke again, her voice lacking that edge of certainty. She was too scared, for someone who seemed to have all the answers.

" No, we're not. There's no **_we_** in this. I'm the one with the creature in me. I'm the one who's getting rid of it. Just.. just get me one of Argent's guns, and, and leave. Both of you." It was the first time that Stiles had looked at Derek. **_Really_** looked at him. And Derek almost crumpled, beneath the weight of the sadness behind his eyes, the end that was painted across his face.

" Lydia, did you find something else out? Other than what we already know?" Derek questioned instead, eyes moving from Stiles, before they shed something or the other.

" Derek," Stiles sighed.

" I think so. There's only one way to get it out of him, but we're going to need Melissa here, preferably Deaton too, and,"

" Derek, listen to me, you,"

" I'm not doing that. Shut up, Stiles, okay? Just shut up. I can't fucking think with you yapping about guns."

" There's nothing to think about, I looked it up, I know what to do,"

" You don't know anything. You- I can't fucking **_believe_** you. Is that why you came here? To off yourself? What is this, huh? What am I? A fucking walking graveyard? A place for people to come and- and die? How fucking oblivious can you be to think that I'd ever let you do that? What the **_fuck_** , Stiles?" Derek was fuming, everything about him palpitating with fury, with uselessness, and grief, because has he not lost enough? Has he not brought enough pain into the world, and taken it all?

" I-" Stiles opened his mouth, willing any words to come out, but his back arched away from the chair, despite the chains holding him down, a broken scream filling the air, as he felt something splitting in half somewhere in his stomach. Derek put a hand to his chest, another to his back, blindly taking pain, but there was so much of it, and it seemed to be duplicating, an overflow that didn't let up. He heard a door opening, called something out that was probably telling Lydia to stay there, to not come out, but then Scott was on the other side of Stiles, hands falling on his head, sharing the weight of his pain with Derek.

" Shit, shit, shit, fuck," Stiles hissed, cried out, a tremor moving through his arms, before he deflated, blood coming out of his ears now too.

" Lydia, give me something, please." Derek said, as soon as he pulled away from Stiles, letting Scott support his weight, comfort him in a way that Derek probably couldn't. He caught the scent of Allison and Chris in the bathroom with Lydia, heard a phone ringing somewhere, before Lydia sighed.

" Chris is calling Isaac to get Melissa here. We're not going to tell the sheriff, until we absolutely have to."

" That's not what I want to hear, Lydia, what are we going to do? How can we fix this?"

" The worm only leaves the vessel when it runs out of food. When- when there's nothing left to nourish it. Or, when- if the vessel dies." Lydia was definitely crying. Derek was definitely going to follow suit.

" There's a but in there, somewhere that I've missed, right?"

" Technically, no. But the worm hates electricity. And I think we can trick it into thinking that Stiles is.." She didn't need to say it. Derek didn't need to hear it. He didn't think he could.

" How do we do that?"

" Electric shock. High voltage. High enough to stop his heart. Maybe. Might not, I don't know."

" Stop his heart? How is that tricking it into thinking he's dead, if he's **_actually_** dead, Lydia?" Scott questioned, horrified and slightly irritated, but he remained holding onto his friend, who was twitching with the movement of the worm beneath his skin.

" That's why we need your mum. When the worm is out, she's going to have to shock his heart back into beating."

" What if the worm doesn't come out soon enough? What if she can't get his heart to work? What if he gets brain damaged or, or,"

" I don't know, Scott, okay? I don't know. I've got nothing else. There ** _is_** nothing else. It's basically a biblical creature. Normally, you can't really kill those. They kill **_us_**."

" No," Stiles choked out, leaning his upper half forward, leaving Scott's hand against his chest, to keep him from tipping over. " Nothing is going to happen to you. You can't- you can't let it get to you. If- if it goes south, you get out. All of you. I don't- I don't want anyone to get hurt. Please. And, dad. Scott, dad." Stiles whimpered, both his hands grasping onto Scott's, his eyes watering, overflowing with tears, despite his dire attempts for them not to.

" He's going to be okay, don't worry. Everything is going to be okay. We've got you, Stiles. Just hold on." Scott was whispering to his friend, and Derek wanted out. He wanted to not be there, to not have that smell of death accompanying the way Stiles' voice sounded like it was fading. He wanted to never have to lose anyone again.

" Isaac and Melissa are here. Have you got him? Because he's going to lose it when he senses Melissa's heartbeat." Derek finally announced, sounding as worn out as he felt.

" I mean, I can hold onto him, yeah." Scott was wide-eyed, looking so young, so afraid and bewildered. Derek looked between him, and Stiles' body that had momentarily sagged into his arms. His hand moved, standing in the air between them, like it wanted to latch on. But Derek shook his head to himself, moving towards the door, guiding Melissa into the bathroom immediately, as Isaac ran to help break Stiles' fall, after he'd kicked Scott slightly away.

Once they were in, Chris and Allison went into details about what they knew, trying to ease Melissa into the rocky plan they had. Derek just needed a minute. He couldn't go back out there yet. He couldn't take much more of watching Stiles crack open and fold onto himself. He put his forehead to the door, his palms spread somewhere next to his face. He hit his head tenderly into the door, over and over again, to keep from punching right through it.

" You okay?" Lydia questioned, sounding closer than he'd remembered her to be. He nodded, hitting his forehead against the door one more time, before he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to keep from crying. He felt a weight by his side, the voices from the conversation dying down, as Lydia's head rested onto his arm. And that was that.

Once Melissa had her medical equipment prepped, Derek walked back out, telling Isaac to help him out, with cutting through the electrical wires, to find the one capable of carrying the most volts. Scott cut through Stiles' shirt, to trace the movement of the worm, if it got too close to the surface. And every time it did, it made Scott's breath stagger slightly, tightened fear's grip on him.

" I think this is it. Do you need me here, or should I stay with the rest of them?" Isaac questioned, looking between Derek and Scott and passing by Stiles, who had a purple bruise forming on his stomach, spreading, indicating an internal bleeding that Derek couldn't afford to think about right now.

" We should have just one person here with him. In case the worm jumps into another vessel. We don't want to give it options. So, Scott, you're going to do it?"

" No, Derek," Stiles' voice sounded rough, like his vocal cords had been cut through, bitten into, and Derek tried not to think of the creature making a meal out of Stiles. Feeding on him. And Stiles nourishing yet another creature, helping it strengthen, worsen.

" Why me?" Derek was mostly relieved, that he'd be there for it. But he was also terrified out of his mind.

" Be- because you're not going to kill me. I'm not going to die here. Because yo- you're not a walking graveyard, Derek." And yeah, Derek might have choked on a sob or two, as Scott and Isaac each patted Stiles as if to tell him that they were with him, before disappearing back into the bathroom. Derek turned away from Stiles, wiping his hands across his face, and wishing he had the time to breakdown properly, but he didn't. So he breathed, like it would ease the lump away from his throat, turning to where Stiles sat, grabbing a hold of what he'd need of wires and switches, before unlocking all the restraints, and letting Stiles' body lay onto the ground, chest exposed, body sunken where the worm had eaten into.

" No dying here today, Stiles, yeah?" Derek sat cross-legged, his knee touching where he thought Stiles' elbow would be. Stiles tried to smile, but he seemed to be breathing through the worm biting into something else, trying not to scream out again.

" Ready?" Derek questioned, Stiles nodded. And it all rushed past him in a hazy twirl from there.

He watched for the worm, till the shadow of it appeared beneath the skin of Stiles' chest. He connected the wires, flipped the switch, and Stiles' eyes widened, for a mere second, his body arching upwards, like it was going to float away, before it collapsed, in a heap of motionless, lifeless, remains. Derek thought he stayed there for a minute or two. Just staring at the utter lack of movement, of sound, before the warm crawled out of Stiles' slacked mouth. He put the wires to it, and pushed the switch again, leaving it for longer this time, because he wanted it dead, he wanted it to die time and time again, for all it'd chipped off of Stiles, all it'd taken away, even though it'd never been its own.

Bulbs exploded with the electrical overload, and the worm disintegrated into burned ashes, before Derek called out to Melissa, who came running out of the bathroom, paddles connecting to Stiles' chest, a called out _clear_ , before his body convulsed in its sleep. Then again. And again. Each time, Derek's own heart felt like it was stopping, giving out its own beats, telling Stiles' that it could take it. It could beat even if it was using Derek's beats for it, Derek's life. Scott was standing beside his mother, Allison by his side, trying to remain strong, despite the slight twitch in her limbs. Isaac was almost uncomfortably close to Derek, seeking out comfort that he didn't know if he could give him. Lydia stood somewhere with Chris, eyes horrified, breath coming out in pants. And like time had sped up when Derek had shocked Stiles, it was now moving agonizingly slow. Barely sauntering, like it was taunting them all, teasing life with what it could take from it. From all of them.

" Mum, it's not working. Why is it not working?" Scott panicked, trying to touch Stiles, to pour life into him, or take some of the pain that was no longer there, or something. Do anything.

" Come on, kiddo, come on, come on, come on." Melissa whispered under her breath, shocking him again, and when it didn't work, for what was probably the tenth time, she disregarded the paddles, and went in manually. She did compressions, telling Lydia to breathe into his mouth every few counts, and she did. They both took turns, doing what was asked of them, but the silence dragged on, and the paling of Stiles' lips was tainted blue and Derek thought he'd lose it. Lose all control and just kill everyone there and then himself.

But then, finally. God, finally, a single gasped out breath moved past Stiles' lips, so silent in its desperation, that they could have missed it, but it eased into another breath, and another one, and Melissa was hugged by a crying Scott, and Lydia and Allison were crying into one another, and Isaac was whimpering somewhere beside him, but Derek was the only one feeling like he could collapse, like he could shatter away.

He dropped somewhere next to Stiles, putting his hand to his cheeks, touching him, and taking in how his skin felt beneath his fingers. How that fucking worm couldn't change that, couldn't take that away. Derek put both his arms beneath Stiles' suddenly weightless figure, standing himself up on wobbly knees, as he walked up the stairs and to his bedroom. He laid him there, surrounding him with his own pillows and blankets, letting them drink up his scent, his dispersing warmth.

" Derek?" He heard someone by the door, but he couldn't look away from Stiles. Couldn't be thrusted into the world again quite yet.

" Call Deaton. Tell him what happened. His organs are probably fucked up, and he has an internal bleeding. Someone should call the sheriff too."

" Okay, we will, but Derek,"

" Just.. just do it. Please." Derek sounded pained. It looked like it did something to him, to see Stiles so unlike everything he'd ever been. He heard a sigh, distancing footsteps, before he moved away from Stiles, wetting a towel, and going back to wipe what he could of the dried blood, trying to see Stiles how he'd always seen him, again.

Deaton came in with a cream that he spread on the entrance wound, and some kind of liquid, that he put in an IV, since Stiles couldn't really swallow, wasn't awake enough for anything yet. Derek stood by, watched the purple slowly disperse away from his skin, the hollowed out parts of his body, filling up again, Stiles looking more and more like a whole human being, with no organs missing, no life-sucking creature near him.

The Sheriff came not long after that, looking distressed and on the verge of tears. He was almost as close to crying as Derek was. And Derek put an actual effort into giving him some privacy with his son, as he walked out the room, and stood right by the door. Sure, he could still hear it all, could even smell the sheriff's tears when they came, but at least he tried, at least he gave them visual privacy, that counted for something.

Melissa came up a few minutes later, standing in front of Derek, with a tired smile. He couldn't really smile back, had little energy to spare for the sake of trying, so he released the arms he had crossed, and pushed himself away from the door, allowing her access, but she didn’t move around him, continued to stare at him like she was expecting something, awaiting it.

" Are you.. okay?" Derek blinked. Once. Twice. Like he couldn't understand the question, couldn't understand why anyone would care enough to ask him that.

" I guess. Yeah. Probably. Not really. I don't know." She nodded, like she understood. He didn't doubt that she did.

" It was a crazy situation. None of us was really prepped for something like that. But you did good."

" I didn't do anything. Stiles and Lydia did the research. Scott called you over. Isaac found the wires. I just."

" You know what, sweetheart, I saw what you did, and they told me about what I didn't see. From what I can tell, you did good. Better than most. So, take it. Take the good when it comes, to be able to take the bad that's bound to come too. Don't deny yourself something, for the sake of the other. Okay?" Derek was slightly breathless, dumbfounded by how confident she was in her words, in what she thought of him. He nodded, a bit shaky, maybe still not all that convinced, but he nodded anyway.

" Yes, ma'am." He smiled then, and so did she, patting his shoulder, holding onto him, before she pushed her way into the room, her voice joining the sheriff's.

Derek climbed down the stairs, seeking out the rest of the people there, trying to drown out the voices coming from his room. He found Scott and Isaac on the floor, surrounded by Stiles' blood, soapy towels in their hands, as they tried to scrub it all away. Lydia was on his single couch, reading through one of Deaton's books, trying to know if there were any long-term implications, any ways of avoiding something like this from ever happening again. Deaton was in the kitchen, working on something that smelled almost just as bad as whatever he'd put in Stiles' IV. Derek didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the uncommon group of people filling out his house, making it feel more like a home.

" Everybody okay here?" Derek questioned, clearing his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't come out strangled or cracked. Scott looked up, exhaustion seeping through him in waves, but he smiled, looking so much like his mother, it was bordering on creepy, but mostly, comforting.

" We're good. Trying to help clean up a bit. Chris took Allison home, said we shouldn't crowd your house. But I couldn't really leave him, you know."

" You don't have to go, if you don't want to. I don't mind. You can leave this too, I can do it later." Derek pointed at the mess that made his stomach turn. Scott shook his head, smile widening, as he went back to scrubbing.

" Who knew fighting Shrek would almost get us all killed. Of all the things we've fought and killed."

" I still don't get that reference and even **_I'm_** getting sick of it, Scott."

" I still think we need to have a Disney movies night. All of us, together. Dude, you're seriously missing out."

" Isn't that the one where the donkey falls in love with a dragon or something? And they have babies together?" Isaac questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Scott nodded, eagerly, enthusiastically.

" I'm judging you really hard right now." Derek announced with a snort, taking Stiles' chair and deciding to throw it away. He didn't like the blood stains on it, or how it reeked of that worm still.

" When are you **_not_** judging me?" Scott accused, his voice saturated with amusement, with lightness. Derek put a finger to his chin, feigning contemplation.

" Remember when- or the time you- yeah, I got nothing." Scott mock-gasped, falling into a fit of laughter. Even Isaac was grinning, despite his lack of appreciation of humor.

" The one time Stiles isn't there to see it, and you make a joke. Unbelievable." Scott was shaking his head, although, a smile remained spread across his features. Something about Derek dimmed a little, but he felt lighter than he had since Stiles had walked through his door.

Melissa came down the stairs then, followed by a barely composed sheriff, who tried to avoid looking at his son's blood, coloring the floors red. Melissa went to collect the medical equipment she'd gotten from the hospital, talking between herself and Lydia, occasionally. Derek and the sheriff stood there, not knowing what to do with themselves, or with one another.

" You can stay here, until he's better, sheriff. You can have the room, or," Derek shrugged, not knowing how to go about this.

" Nah, I better get back to the station anyway. Melissa said he's going to be asleep for a while, so. You'll call me though? If something happens, or he- fucking hell, I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm never normally like this." The sheriff chuckled, and it came out wet, breathless, as he wiped a hand against his eyes, to keep the moisture at bay.

" I'll call you every hour to let you know how he is. I'll take good care of him, don't worry."

" Yeah. I know you will." There wasn't a change in how the sheriff's heart was beating. Derek felt something release in his chest then, a renewed sense of reassurance, of trust, filling him up inside.

" Ready to head out? I need to take these back to the hospital." Melissa appeared to Derek's side, putting a hand around his waist, so casually, so simply, like she was used to it. Used to him. Derek was trying to breathe, without crying out for his mum.

" Yeah, I'm ready. Thank you, Derek. I- I owe you." Derek went to shake his head, to deny the debt that was never meant to be repaid to him, but Melissa squeezed tighter around him, and he melted into her.

" It's okay, Sheriff." Derek nodded instead, pulled into a quick, less than awkward hug from the sheriff, who then found his way out of the apartment. Isaac and Scott stood in front of Derek then.

" We did what we could with it. And we'll come back in the morning with the supplies, to get rid of the stubborn stains. I can stay, if you need help with him, or just, anything." Scott offered, smiling at the arm his mother had around Derek, like he'd wanted to ask for it, he'd wanted her to do it all along.

" I've got it from here. Keep your phones on you though. And take care of the sheriff, until, you know, Stiles gets better."

" Will do." Scott nodded, pushing himself into Derek's arms, that weren't prepared, weren't even opened, but Derek still held on, feeling something snapping back into place, wondering how he'd ever thought he'd make it all alone, without these people around him. Isaac replaced Scott once he'd pulled back, seemingly needing the comfort of his Alpha. Derek felt equally as needy then.

" Call me or Scott if anything came up with Stiles. Deaton is going to make another portion of whatever he used to heal him up from the inside, but just in case there's anything medical you need to ask about." Melissa said, detaching herself from Derek, but she took one of his hands, steadying it, when Derek hadn't known it was trembling.

" Thank you, Ms. Mccall." Derek breathed out, feeling so little, in her massive presence. She stood on her tiptoes, leaving a kiss on his forehead, and the sound of it, echoing in his ears. She slowly let his hand drop away from her own, walking out his apartment, with each of her arms, around Scott and Isaac. And Derek found himself wishing she'd stayed. Found himself wishing his mother had, at least.

Derek dropped into the couch, next to Lydia, anchoring her silently, the way she had with him in the bathroom, until Deaton was finished with what he had to do for Stiles, checking up on him one last time, before excusing himself. Lydia went with him too, smiling at Derek before she left, in quiet gratitude. Derek locked his doors, put the blinds over his windows, before retrieving back to his room. He showered, changed into fresh clothes, before falling into his bed, cautious to not stir Stiles, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, his almost comforting scent.

It took Stiles about 10 hours for his breath to stagger, for his eyes to blink, like this time, they'd really try to open. And they did. Stiles' eyes were on the ceiling, eyebrows furrowing weakly, before he angled his head to where Derek was sat, head rested against his hand, eyes dimmed with exhaustion, and probably a lot of other shit too.

" Did it work?" Stiles asked, sounding groggy, rough.

" As it turns out, biblical creatures aren't **_that_** big of a deal. I don't get where they get the reputation from." Derek shrugged, turning away from Stiles, resting onto his back, to not look at Stiles too closely, not to take him in too hungrily.

" Humor. Wow. I must have died and gone to heaven." Stiles laughed. It was short-lived, turning into a cough, an ache starting somewhere in his chest. Derek silently took the hand that was closer to him, absorbing some of his pain, that was still intense, almost blinding.

" Everybody else okay? I didn't- like-"

" They're all okay. Everyone is fine." Stiles heaved out a sigh of relief, his hands unclenching.

" I didn't come here to off myself. I, I didn't think. I just felt like something was wrong with me, and didn't know who else to go to. And I- I knew you'd do whatever it took."

" I wouldn't have **_killed_** you, Stiles. Wouldn't have let you kill yourself either. God." A shudder went through his body, and he hoped Stiles couldn't feel it through his slipping grip. Derek was offended. Angry, still. He knew he came off as cold, heartless even, but Stiles had to have known better by now. Had to have seen through it. That at the end of the day, he was just, really scared of losing someone else. Of losing more bits of himself.

" Even as a last resort kind of thing? Like, to save everybody else, and-"

" **_No_** , Stiles, what the fuck? Is that what you think of me? Really? You think I'd- I'd kill you, for the sake of anyone else? I'll off **_myself_** before I have to see anything happen to you, how can you not know that? How can you-" Derek recoiled, suddenly suffocated, overwhelmed, because Stiles was right fucking there, talking about death, like Derek could ever live with it. Could ever live without him. But despite the general weakness in Stiles, his hand held onto Derek, keeping him close, stopping him before he strayed too far.

" I'm sorry. I don't think you'd do anything to hurt me. I trust you, okay? I do. I'm sorry." Derek shakily breathed out, nodding, although, there was still an itch for some space. For a safe distance between them.

" So, how much of me is left? How bad is it?" Derek recognized the attempt at lightness, despite everything still feeling remarkably heavy.

" Well, most of you is still intact, except for, you know. Which was barely a snack really, there was barely anything there, the poor worm starved to death." Derek wiggled his eyebrows, pointing towards Stiles' bottom half region, as Stiles' eyes widened, hand moving the blanket away to take a look, before he caught on Derek's stifled laughter, how his eyes sparkled in mischievousness.

" A dick joke. The first joke you make, and it's a dick joke. Wow, Derek. **_Wow_**." Stiles shook his head, as Derek's laughter resonated in the atmosphere around them, erasing all traces of hurt, of doubt.

" Second joke actually. Made another one with Scott earlier."

" **_No way_** , what was it?" Stiles was suddenly curious, eager, although, a yawn went past his lips, but he shook it off, snuggling further into his –Derek's- pillow.

" I don't recycle my jokes, Stiles. Once it's done, it's done."

" You make a couple of jokes, and suddenly, you're a comedy expert, give me a **_break_**." Stiles yawned again, his eyes slowing in their blinking.

" Get some rest, Stiles. It's fine." Stiles nodded, spreading an arm across Derek's chest, a silent request for him to stay. And he did.


End file.
